


My annoying stan fucked me in the club

by bertie_bees



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Crossover, Eventual Smut, M/M, NSFW, asshole!cracker, cowritten, craquaria au, stan!Aquaria
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 10:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15169181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertie_bees/pseuds/bertie_bees
Summary: Having won the hearts of the fandom Miz Cracker, a fresh faced Drag Race favourite, had embarked on touring the world, thus leading her to Milan, and a very, infuriatingly, special baby queen.This is a co-written fic with Evelyn, nondirmiche; she's written February the 12th and Harlem nights, she basically birthed Craquaria!





	My annoying stan fucked me in the club

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: Ehy cuties! It’s me Evelyn. I know, you’re all gagged. Bees and me, dare I say la creme-de-la-creme of the Craquaria writers have come together to write some shit. Hope you like it. This is an AU!, ofc, but it’s not too distant from reality. Enjoy! Ily xx
> 
> AN: Hey guys, how’s it crack-a-lacking? You may have heard of crossovers, when two fictional worlds intertwine (Avengers, Suicide Squad, Justice League?) this is, possibly the first, Craquaria cross over (because torturing ourselves by managing one fic isn’t enough.) I think this is a unique portrayal of Craquaria and I hope you enjoy! -Bertie Bees

Max was currently staring straight ahead, robotically, at a piece of unidentifiable dirt on the back of the seat in front of him, desperately attempting to ignoring the small thuds falling on the back of his seat. He contemplated what had truly brought him to the current position he was in both physically (in his itching plane seat) and mentally.  
He’d applied to Drag Race so long ago, clique as it appeared, it felt as though thousands of moons had passed, when in reality it was little more than a year; yet this year had filter more peaks and dips than the entire span of Max’s life had possessed. Of course, when the promotion had been thrusted into the limelight, thus shadowing any other activities in the gay community, Max had anticipated a change yet the love and losses he’d experienced as a consequence were so unfamiliar to Max; he never saw them, until, alas, he couldn’t ignore them.  
Cracker had been whisked away, from her throne as a hearty fan favourite, to vast stretches of touring time, relishing at the attention and adoration fans bathed her in whenever she stepped her pretty, petite frame on that stage.  
The love in Max’s life blossomed and bloomed, taking on the shape of the most beautiful, blush coloured flowers that would sit uniformly in the garden of Eden. The love grew, until it didn’t. Her fan’s love shone, while the love in Max’s most prized person dimmed. The love was warming, smothering Max in a thick blanket of comfort; until the inevitable parting of two, once harmonious, lovers.  
Max had returned, suitcases filled with his perfect persona in hand, to a half empty expanse of an apartment and a rushed scribble of a note; it simply explained that Max spent far too much time as Cracker, pleasing her fans, and far too little time as Max, pleasing his partner.  
Needless to say the sparkle that drag race had offered Max had been extinguished, thus freezing the normally joyful, vibrant warmth of Maxwell Heller; he had become colder and Cracker’s routines become more intense as Max craved visibility more than ever.  
Surprisingly, Max suffered in silence, as his heart slowly decayed, hallowing and resulting in aching holes in his mentality. Yet, he refused to crumble, Miz Cracker could never wither to crumbs.  
It had been a gradual initiation, the plastic perspective took months of unspoken angry and hurt to mould. Max had shut everyone out, isolating himself in an ivory tower of Miz Cracker, presenting only himself in his desired form, feeding only on the unstained positivity of her fans; it was enviable for her head to swell bigger than her hair. Max had forced a faux confidence for so long, as a copy mechanism, it has flooded through his bloodstream, straight to his brain.  
This new found narcissism coax max into comfort, especially when a baby drag queen from the other side of the globe was dubbed Miz Cracker’s twin. Max, when faced with the prospect of a younger, more exotic Cracker, had felt a weight of anxiety sinking in his stomach. However, there was an area he would always top Milan’s Miss Mediocre; Miz Cracker was Drag Race alumnus, a category baby zodic had never competed in.  
Surprisingly, Max felt no shame in replying to the reams of messages the Italian queens had thrusted in Max’s direction; embarrassingly, he even found comfort in the adoring words of the younger man.  
Initially, when the European tour dates announced Cracker’s arrival in Milan, he had been engulfed in fear. Fear of blurring the lines between his and his twin’s territories, their kingdoms of comfort; yet, his heart melted a fraction as he was met with nothing but excitement and promises of dinners and personal tours (all of which Max knew he’d never attend) from the younger man.  
Max reflected on the events that had lead to this moment. This moment of travelling in a cramped, sweating plane, surrounded by random queens he had either never met, or never tolerated, travelling swiftly to the one place he thought he’d never perform, Milan, and to the one person he never thought he’d admit was beautiful. Aquaria. 

Milan is many things. It’s a city, it’s an emblem, it’s a concept, it’s a fashion capital, but most importantly for our story it’s the peak of Italian drag. And Giovanni Palandrani, 22 years old, best known as Aquaria, was the peak of Milanese drag. He looked at himself in the mirror and sighed. Then looked up, his lips opening in a nervous smile: the day had come. He had been waiting for months for that day and his heart was pounding in his chest as he started applying his makeup religiously, ready to completely transform his lizard-like Mediterranean features in a beautiful young woman. Why was Giovanni so nervous? Which thoughts didn’t let his mind rest?  
Lilly Love, graceful, polished, tiny, looked at him from her station. She immediately noticed her friend’s anxiety and she raised from her chair in a fluid movement, joining him in front of the mirror and lightly massaging his neck with her slender fingers. 

“What’s wrong, amore?”, she asked, looking at the other queen in the eyes. Her voice was soft and calming.  
“Tonight’s the night Lilly”.  
“Tonight’s the night!”, echoed Angel from across the room. Angel McQueen couldn’t resist gossiping, it was her weakness.  
Lilly shushed her and kept rolling her hands down Aquaria’s tight muscles: “Are you scared?”.  
“I’m not. I’m just worried she won’t like me…”.  
“Oh but she’s always so sweet when she answers you isn’t she!”, said Lilly in a delicate gasp.  
“You’re right but…”.  
“But let me tell you, she secretely hates you”, jumped in Hedera. Her name was Hedera Ching, a loud and sassy queen from the south. “Who wouldn’t?”.  
Aquaria could hear Angel and Moonchild, a tiny queen from Bologna, cackle together.  
“Shut up girls, she’s trying to get out of her head!”, shouted Lilly, “Listen piccola, you’ll be amazing tonight. You’ll be even better than her. You’re the brightest star of this club”.  
Aquaria looked at Lilly, sincerely thankful, and she kissed her on the cheek: the queen smiled, walking back to her station to scold her obnoxious sisters.

Aquaria kept putting on makeup almost robotically, because suppressing her emotions was better than confronting them. She was too tense. She had built high expectations in her mind, in those months of talking with the one and only Miz Cracker, star of RuPaul’s Drag Race, in those months of being compared to her, in those months in which she had become fascinated by the smart and witty New York queen. She had loved her as a fan and she was about to perform in the same damn night as her, you all can understand how freaking terrified she was. Aquaria was yes a legend in her city, in her country, and maybe even online, but what was she when compared to one of the most popular queens in the most famous drag show on tv? Nothing. 

With her mind full of those thoughts Giovanni Palandrani, age 22, got in drag that hot July night to meet what had been her idol, her inspiration, her strength and her weakness for the past few months. “You’re stunning”, Miz Cracker would’ve later whispered to her, looking at her perfectly painted eyes and slim body wrapped in a shiny bodysuit.  
But Aquaria didn’t know about it yet.


End file.
